Murphy was more than happy to call the vampire-slaying battle in Cadman City a great victory.
His little players had performed quite well in the battle. Though they hadn't directly faced the more powerful Silver-rank vampires, nearly all of Jade's hapless vampire thralls had fallen to the players.
Eight of them alone had been captured after being cut down.
It looked like a complete victory, but if you counted only the players' side, it was a little less satisfying.
Forty players had surrounded twelve vampire thralls, yet twenty-three players had been killed. They'd even had the advantage of a surprise attack and superior numbers. That showed that, at their current level, the players were practically doomed if they ran into flying Black Iron vampires in groups of fewer than five.
But it also meant that any player who survived such a brutal battle was a "lucky charm." They might be lousy fighters, but they were definitely lucky.
Murphy had no doubt about that.
But could Meow Brother's current situation really be described as "luck"?
In a ritual full of mistakes, a staunch atheist had called upon a god in a halfhearted tone—and even got the title wrong!
Anyone who knew what was happening would say they were conducting a class-change ritual. Anyone who didn't would think they'd come here specifically to blaspheme!
And yet!
It actually worked?
Damn!
Was this Starrealm giant, Avalon, the legendary god of nature and elves—the one who had stopped answering the Old Church's prayers after it betrayed him during the Ten-Year War—blind or something?
Murphy's stiff body felt the obscure gaze vanish in an instant. He turned back to look down at Meow Brother, who was now wrapped in a wind from the forest, its color a brilliant green.
He wasn't worried about being noticed